


Belated Valentine

by theoofoof



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoofoof/pseuds/theoofoof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine's Day one shot. Harry and Ruth's plans for Valentine's Day have been cancelled due to a terrorist attack. H/R.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Belated Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Spooks or any of the characters you may recognise. They all belong to Kudos/BBC.

Ruth stepped out of the shower, steam billowing around her, and wrapped herself in a towel. It had been a long, hard week and all she wanted now was to get into bed and try and forget the horrors she had witnessed. There’d been several explosions in Oxford Street the previous Saturday and the death count was terribly high; 231 at the last count. They’d received no warnings and GCHQ hadn’t picked up any chatter, so they’d been unable to evacuate the area. The bombers had chosen peak time to cause maximum impact; two o’clock on a Saturday afternoon.

After five days of working nearly non-stop they had finally apprehended those responsible; Iranian dissidents, who had showed no remorse for their actions. The team were physically and mentally drained so as soon as they had the attackers in custody, Harry had sent everyone home. Ruth had held back, intending to wait for him, but he had an emergency meeting with the Home Secretary so had reiterated his order for her to leave work. This time however, he added the proviso that she was to go to his house and he would join her when he could.

They had been carving out a romantic relationship for the past seven months and so far it had been relatively successful. The only stumbling block was Ruth’s reluctance to make their feelings for each other public. Harry had asked her about it on numerous occasions but each time she had insisted that she wasn’t ready and he had conceded defeat. Despite yielding to her wishes, Ruth knew Harry was frustrated by her behaviour and had resolved that, this week, she would finally allow them to ‘come clean’ and confirm the rumours that had been circulating. She had decided that it would be her surprise Valentine’s Day gift to Harry. He was taking her out to dinner and she’d decided to tell him then.

However, their reservation at The Dorchester Hotel had gone out of the window; the terrorist attack taking priority. Instead, they had spent Valentine’s Day (and night) on The Grid; she, analysing intelligence and Harry, co-ordinating the task force as ‘Gold Commander’. She would have to think of another way of approaching the issue. But not now. Now all she wanted to do was crawl in between the soft cotton sheets of Harry’s king size bed; she felt like she could sleep for a week.

Once dry from her shower, she rummaged around in Harry’s wardrobe for an old shirt to wear; one that smelt like him. Then, after brushing her hair and tying it back, she pulled back the duvet and got into the bed. She was asleep within seconds of her head touching the pillow.

* * *

Her sleep was fitful at best, meaning she stirred when the bedroom door creaked open. Opening her eyes, she saw Harry enter. He looked extremely tired and harassed; from which she assumed the meeting with Home Secretary had served no other  purpose than that of reprimanding him and the lack of action from his team. She glanced at the clock; 2.20am.

“Hi,” she whispered sleepily as he shed his jacket.

“I woke you,” he observed regretfully. “Sorry. I was trying to be quiet.”

“I know. Don’t worry, I never sleep properly if you’re not here,” she admitted. “How was the meeting?”

“It was a complete farce. It became obvious very quickly that nothing I could say or do would alter their opinion of the reasons the attack was able to go ahead unchallenged. There’s going to be an investigation,” he sighed before approaching the bed and placing a chaste kiss on Ruth’s lips. “Go back to sleep, I’m just going to grab a quick shower and then I’ll be joining you.”

Ruth decided she wasn’t going to go back to sleep, wanting to provide Harry with the comfort she knew he needed, so she turned on the bedside lamp and picked up the book she had been reading when she when was last here; the weekend before last. She’d read it many times before but it was something to focus on while she waited for Harry.

Harry emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later and rolled his eyes at the sight of Ruth, still awake; he should have known she’d ignore him. “I thought I told you to go back to sleep.”

“Yes well, you might be my boss Harry but at home…” she trailed of, realising teasing probably wasn’t appropriate right now. “I just thought you might want to talk.”

“Thank you Ruth, but all I want to do now is sleep,” he told her as he got in bed beside her. “We can talk in the morning.”

Ruth nodded. “Okay. It will be okay though Harry. Trust me.”

“I do,” he replied, opening his arms. She took the hint and curled into him, her head resting on his chest and her arm splayed across his stomach. Very soon they both drifted off into a deep sleep.

* * *

When she awoke again, sunlight was streaming in through a small gap in the curtains. She looked at the clock, it was nearly ten o'clock; they’d slept for a good seven hours; the most sleep they’d probably had all week.

Harry let out a soft snore next to her and Ruth decided to leave him be and let him rest for longer. Neither of them were expected on the Grid today, and if the powers-that-be wanted Harry, they had his phone number.

Stretching slightly she got out of bed and padded across the room. Harry’s clothes were piled on the floor, where he had left them in his eagerness to get into bed, so once she had made use of the bathroom and got herself dressed, she went about the task of picking them up and sorting them out. She placed his trousers, shirt and briefs in the laundry basket and picked his jacket up to hang over the chair in the corner; knowing it would need dry cleaning. Picking up his jacket, she noticed it felt heavy; he’d not even taken the time to empty his pockets last night.  She proceeded to do it for him; she placed his mobile phone on the bedside cabinet, along with his wallet and keys before her hand encountered something she was not expecting.

As her fingertips touched the soft velvet and she felt the shape of the box, she stiffened slightly. Composing herself, she slowly pulled the box out of the pocket to examine it more closely. When she finally laid eyes on it, she knew instinctively what it was. It could have contained earrings or a necklace, but something told Ruth otherwise. So, perching on the edge of the bed, she carefully lifted the lid to look at the contents; curiosity getting the better of her. She gasped audibly as her eyes settled on the ring that was nestled safely inside. It was a single princess cut diamond on white gold band; simple but elegant. As she sat staring at the contents of the box, she felt the mattress shift behind her.

“You weren’t supposed to find that,” Harry declared, sitting up.

“I… I wasn’t snooping. I was just clearing up; it was in your jacket.” If the situation had been slightly less embarrassing, Harry might have managed a small smile at the fact that Ruth was more concerned about explaining her own actions than asking about his.

“It’s been in my pocket since I picked it up from the jewellers last Friday. If I’d had my wits about me I’d have remembered to put it away last night.”

Ruth paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. Eventually she settled on, “Why?”

Harry was confused. “Why? So that you wouldn’t find it when picking up my clothes.”

“No,” she clarified. “Why has it been in your pocket all week?”

“Well my plan was to ask you at dinner on Saturday night, but then our plans got shelved and in the aftermath of the bomb it didn’t occur to me that it was still there.”

Ruth was still staring at the ring wide eyed when Harry took the box from her, snapped it closed and slipped out of the bed bending down on one knee in front of her.

“Harry,I-”

“Ssh,” he instructed, reaching up and placing a finger to her lips. Once he was satisfied that she wasn’t going to interrupt him again he began the speech that had been running round his head for the past few weeks. “Ruth, when you walked into the briefing room on that first day I never imagined that our relationship would develop into anything more than that of colleagues. If I had, I’d have probably thought twice about making that awful joke.”

Ruth smiled at the memory, the butterflies in her stomach calming a little, and couldn’t resist teasing him. “It was a pretty poor joke.”

“But,” continued Harry, choosing to ignore Ruth’s comment, “as we worked together and got to know one another, I found myself falling in love with you. I know neither of us are particularly… emotionally forthright, but I know that I couldn’t stop loving you now if I tried. So, Ruth Evershed,” he opened the box to reveal the ring to her once again, “will you marry me?”

Ruth opened her mouth but found couldn’t say anything; she was completely overtaken by the feelings that his proposal had elicited in her. When she’d first found the ring she’d been consumed by fear and apprehension but seeing him down on one knee in front of her had caused those feelings to disappear, and by the time he actually uttered the words all she felt was overwhelming love and happiness. She was just having trouble vocalising this.

Harry took her silence as a bad thing and, trying to hide his disappointment, began to initiate damage control. “If it’s too fast Ruth, that’s okay. It won’t matter; things can carry on as they were, I know you’re worried about what people will think an-”

“Harry!” Ruth interrupted, having finally found her voice. She slid down from the bed and knelt on the floor facing him. She cupped his face in her hands, drew him towards her and kissed him. When she pulled away, she spoke softly. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s not really the done thing to propose and then withdraw the offer?”

“What are you saying Ruth?”

“Well if the offer’s still open, I’d like to say yes.”

“It is. Still open I mean.”

“In that case; yes I’ll marry you.”

Harry took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. To Ruth’s surprise, it was a perfect fit. “How did you…?”

“I’m a spook,” he answered as if it explained everything, before pulling her in for another kiss.

* * *

As the lay together in bed later that day Ruth’s thoughts drifted back to the horrific events of the past week and wondered if it was right for them to be celebrating, to be feeling like they did when others were grieving.  “Should we feel guilty about being this happy, Harry?”

“You mean considering what’s happened this week?”

“Yeah.”

“My Mum used to say that during a time of death, life and love should be celebrated, and I think I agree with her. We face death and destruction on a daily basis Ruth, and whilst us getting engaged doesn’t help those who have lost loved ones this week, it helps us. I don’t feel guilty about this, and neither should you.”

Ruth considered his words for a moment, before deciding there was a lot of sense in them and nodding. “I love you, Harry.”

“I love you too, Ruth. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“It’s only 5 days late, but yes, Happy Valentine’s Day.”


End file.
